


Iove is our secret (i know you won't keep it)

by chinupdrownslow



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinupdrownslow/pseuds/chinupdrownslow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what Malcolm Gladwell says, sometimes, it pays to wait before you make a snap decision.<br/><i>Actually laughing at this. You think this is real? Do you really think Gerard would stoop so low to hook up with someone as fat and as gross as Patrick Stump? Patrick can sing, sure, but no where near as good as Gerard can. Patrick is a fat, sideburned guy who is not at Gerard’s caliber. There is no way Gerard would ever, ever, hook up with someone like this. If it is real, then I’m disappointed in Gerard. He can do so much better. - DemolitionLover @ 11:37pm (12 upvotes,4 downvotes)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Iove is our secret (i know you won't keep it)

**Author's Note:**

> this was written between charlotte and i as in response to a prompt i posted on my tumblr. she wrote the first section, and i wrote the second. i wonder if you can see the split!

Everyone had found it.

Not  _everyone,_  obviously. Their bands both knew. They weren’t going to hide it from them. But they hadn’t wanted anyone outside to find out.

They had been so careful.

Sometimes Patrick snuck onto his bus, sometimes Gerard snuck onto his. Patrick left his hotel room just past midnight to knock on Gerard’s, who would pull him in and close the door quickly.

Everything had been done behind closed doors. They had been so, so careful.

But they had gotten cocky. That was evident. Everyone was so preoccupied with the idea of Pete and Patrick that no one had thought that it might not even be someone in his hand that had his heart. And they used that to their advantage.

They had started going out together. Dinners at back alley places where people didn’t know them, going to bars. And a few times Gerard would kiss him, softly against the brick of the alley, against Patrick’s apartment door.

One night they had gone to a show together. They didn’t even like the band, they just pushed against each other and touched, and Patrick loved being in public with him, even if it was some shitty basement where the beer smelt like piss and no one even looked at him. And afterwards, Gerard pressed him up against the wall and kissed him roughly.

Patrick should have known better.

The next day, Patrick woke with a sore ass and Gerard snoring softly behind him, an arm wrapped around Patrick’s waist. He had been awoken by his phone ringing, and he moved out from under Gerard’s arm to check the notification.

It was from Pete, and he opened the next message for it to read  _ **check ur email its important**_

Patrick sighed and rolled over, grabbing his boxers from the floor and pulling them up before walking over to his desk and allowing his laptop to turn back to life. He opened mail and clicked on the link Pete sent him.

Patrick felt his heart slowly beat to a stop.

The headline of the page read:  _When Bands collide; Black Parade leader caught with Stocky Stump._

Patrick’s stomach felt queasy. He scrolled down and felt his mouth drop down in horror at the image taken.

It was of him, against a wall with his hands in Gerard’s hair while Gerard had a hand on his waist, pulling his hips toward his. Their lips were locked in a fierce kiss and their eyes were closed.

"Oh, no," Patrick whispered, and he scrolled down to read the article.

_Last night, this photo was snapped of the lead singer of Fall Out Boy lip locked with the emo leader of the Black Parade, Gerard Way._

_These bands are both infamous for their touching and their intimacy, but we never suspected it to be real. Looking at this photo, it’s clear that perhaps there was more going on backstage that meets the eye._

_We have not received comment from either parties or their bands, but we are all awaiting eagerly for a response._

Patrick swallowed and glanced over to Gerard. He looked so peaceful, hair in front of his eyes, chest down on the mattress, arm across the bed to where Patrick normally slept, and the sheets were pulled down over the small of his back. Patrick turned back to his screen and scrolled down to read the comments.

_this is so cute omg im so excited fr them!! can’t wait for a tour <3 - fobfan8987 @ 11:58pm (2 upvotes, 0 downvotes)_

_Leave them alone. This isn’t a scandal and this is very disrespectful of them to post this. I’m disappointed in you guys. - Vampireshurtyou1101 @ 11:46pm (15 upvotes, 2 downvotes)_

_Wow. This is gross. Their stage gay was taken too far - warped20054ever @ 11:43pm (5 upvotes, 11 downvotes)_

_Actually laughing at this. You think this is real? Do you really think Gerard would stoop so low to hook up with someone as fat and as gross as Patrick Stump? Patrick can sing, sure, but no where near as good as Gerard can. Patrick is a fat, sideburned guy who is not at Gerard’s caliber. There is no way Gerard would ever, ever, hook up with someone like this. If it is real, then I’m disappointed in Gerard. He can do so much better. - DemolitionLover @ 11:37pm (12 upvotes,4 downvotes)_

Patrick felt his heart convulse in his chest. He felt himself start to sweat. He never, ever let shit like this get to him ever,  _ever_ , but it was never about Gerard.

The worst part about reading this, Patrick realized, was that this is what crossed his mind almost daily.

He looked at Gerard then, and knew that this person online was totally right. Gerard was so beautiful, with a raw voice that was the devil itself, skin made up of slight chub and lean muscle. He was so so beautiful and Patrick felt his self esteem shatter at such a stupid fucking comment.

"Patrick?"

Patrick turned back to Gerard, who had sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the sheets pooled at his waist. He looked at Patrick and smiled, and Patrick smiled back.

"Everything okay?" Gerard asked, stepping out of bed to stand behind Patrick. Patrick quickly closed the tab and stayed on his mail as Gerard ran his hands down the front of Patrick’s torso, and Patrick was suddenly so aware of how his stomach curled over the elastic of his boxers, and how soft his skin was against Gerard’s hands and he wanted to cry.

"Yeah, I’m fine," Patrick said, smiling. Gerard looked at him, brow furrowed. He shook his head and kissed him behind his ear before stepping back.

"Okay. You hungry, Pat? I’m gonna make pancakes," Gerard said, stepping out of the room to walk over the kitchen.

Patrick looked down at his stomach, and then back at the screen. His stomach ached, but he ignored it. “No, I’m fine. You make them for yourself, kay?”

"Kay," Gerard called back. Patrick heard the sizzle of the frying pan and sighed. He took his glass from the bedside table and drank the rest of the water. He felt better.

* * *

When Gerard left later that morning (with a long kiss by the door, his hands digging in to the flesh above Patrick’s hips) he was still unaware. He waited for Gerard to find out, to message him. He didn’t know how to tell him.

That night, Patrick stepped out onto the stage for the first night on a long tour and barely moved from his spot. The show sucked, and his band members stared sadly at him. Pete made up for it by jumping up and down and Joe’s guitar solo and Andy’s drum solo made up for his lack of stage presence. Patrick doesn’t talk to fans after the show, and neither do the rest of them, and they just head to the bus.

"Are you okay, Patrick?" Andy asked, hand gentle on his shoulder. Patrick nodded.

"You should eat something," Joe remarked, lying down on the couch. "You didn’t eat at dinner."

Patrick shook his head. “I feel kind of queasy. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.”

They nodded, and Patrick pushed past them and pulled the curtain shut in his bunk. He took his phone out from under his pillow. He had 3 texts from Gerard.

**I miss you. Text me when your show is over.**

**Is it done yet? You know I need my Patrick time.**

**Saw the live stream. Miss you singing to me. It’s been less than a day and I miss you. We’ll meet up in your show in New York.**

Patrick smiled. He texted back  **i’m too tired tonight. i’ll call you in the morning, okay? love you.**

Gerard took a while to text back. Patrick waited patiently in his bunk for his phone to buzz. It didn’t. Patrick drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, he had one new message.

**We need to talk.**

* * *

 

Patrick was the king of stressing himself out.  _we need to talk_ was rattling around in his head like a single marble in a box. What if Gerard was going to break up with him? Fuck, he probably was. Patrick was like what DemolitionLover said. Fat and gross. 

Patrick traced Gerard's face on the picture he'd stuck up on the roof of his bunk. Gerard still had black hair, and they had their arms around each other and were grinning like fools. They were happy. He could remember when it taken, during Warped 2005, when people were all focused on Pete and Mikey. Back when they were first starting out and Patrick was still nervous over Cork Tree and Gerard was still on shaky feet, but together they'd made something that had stuck. Well, it had stuck for a while. 

Patrick tried not to cry as he carefully peeled the Polaroid down, picking the tape from the corners of the photo. He carefully held it, making sure not to get fingerprints all over it and moved out of his bunk to go put it away. 

Pete was up already, sitting at the table and sipping at a coffee as Patrick went to put it in his notebook. Pete greeted him, but he had to pause and think before replying. 

"Lunchbox?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Pete, I'm fine."  _please don't ask please don't ask i am going to cry_

"Patrick, come on, something's obviously wrong..." Pete was frowning at him.  _don't look like that i'm gonna start talking and i'm going to cry_ "I know that look. That's a fucking breakup look. What did Gerard do to you? I'm gonna kick his ass. I'm gonna get  _Andy_ to kick his ass!" Pete was fuming, but Patrick just wanted to go back to his bunk and curl up and cry a lot. 

The buses hadn't stopped moving. They were heading towards New York, where Gerard would be to break it off officially. Patrick could feel a sob welling up as he stood stock still in front of Pete, who was standing up to come and comfort him. Everything was blurry and in slow motion, and Patrick didn't know why. 

"Fuck, he was too good for me..." Patrick could feel the tears flowing down his cheeks as Pete guided him towards the seat and pushed a cup of coffee in front of him. "He was way out of my league, goddamnit. I knew he was going to break it off at some point." 

Pete comforted him and put him back to bed in his bunk, fluffing Patrick's pillows and tucking him in with a bottle of water and a box of tissues. 

\--

"And I took his phone away and turned it off," so that's why he couldn't find his phone when he woke up, "So he won't be begging him or crying on the phone to that asshole." Pete was saying.

"I swear, if that dickhead shows his face in New York I am going to break his nose." Andy growled. Patrick hadn't heard Andy this mad in ages. They must really care. 

Patrick came into the breakroom and they all sobered up, conversation stopping. The show that night was like a sinking ship again, and Patrick felt sorry for the kids. They didn't deserve a crappy show like that, fuck it. 

Benign chatter filled the room, and Patrick excused himself pretty quickly, heading back to prepare himself for the New York show the next night. 

* * *

Patrick could see Gerard in the back of the venue, clutching something that looked like a Coke Zero (with three ice cubes in a whiskey tumbler. typical) and his blood boiled. Gerard had the nerve to shoot him a smile like the ones they used to share, and Patrick's eyes narrowed. 

The show that night was on the ball, Patrick spitting out the words to Pete's heartbreak anthems like they were acid, playing hard so his fingers ached. It was like he was playing to make up the last two shows, playing to show Gerard that he was already over him, singing the words to Dance, Dance straight through Gerard's brain so he knew what he was throwing away, the asshole.

At the end of the show he stalked off the stage, practically tossing his guitar at the tech and towelling off his face.

Gerard was already waiting for him with a smiley, hopeful face, doing that fucking thing where he would smile with one side of his mouth, that he  _knew_ made Patrick melt. 

"Fuck you, asshole." Patrick hissed at him, before kicking him in the balls and stalking away. "I hope you get torn apart by vampires or some shit!"

As he left Patrick could see Andy punching Gerard in the nose, and felt a small squeeze of revenge and glee. Gerard Way can go fuck himself. Gerard Way can go to prison and do push ups in drag for all he cared. Patrick Stump and Gerard Way were done; Gerard had made that clear.

* * *

The next few shows happened in a similar fashion, Patrick stomping out the notes of theirs songs like they were being torn from his chest, Pete and Andy and Joe comforting him offstage. 

Three days after the New York they were somewhere in New Jersey when Pete left him alone at the gas station to shout angrily into his phone.  _what is that about?_

When Pete got back he looked haggard and frustrated. "So," he started, "I just got a call from Mikeyway, and he tells me they have another mopey, crying lead singer on their end. So what's up with that?"

Patrick shrugged. If Gerard was having second thoughts, that's his problem. "I dunno. He broke up with me."

"Are you sure? Did he actually say that in words? Because Mikey tells me that Gerard doesn't remember breaking up with you."

Patrick shrugged. 

"We're going to be in Belleville in three hours. Gerard is going to be in a diner on the corner of Main. You should be there." 

Patrick just stared at him as he left. 

* * *

When Patrick got to the diner, Gerard was drinking coffee like if he wished hard enough a shot would appeared in it. His short, spiky blonde hair looked limper than hair that short should look, and he had bags under his eyes so big that it was like he was trying to rival the Patient. He had a bandaid on his nose that was doing a bad job of covering the massive bruise Andy put on it. 

"What did I do wrong?" Gerard's eyes were wide, as he asked the question, "I swear to God I'll fix it, I don't know what it is, I'll fix it, just, please... Please say something, oh God. Are you breaking up with me? I swear, I didn't mean it, I'll fix it, just give me a second chance, please."

Patrick was speechless. 

"Do you want to break up?" Gerard looked so  _sad,_ and Patrick's heart swelled. 

"I thought you were breaking up with me," Patrick mumbled. 

"No! No, God no. Why would you- why would you think that?"

"Well, like, you saw the picture and then you texted me that thing and like, I don't know. You saw what they said. You're fucking," Patrick waved his hand up and down Gerard's torso, " _you,_ and I'm just me. Fucking, Stocky Stump. And that's putting it nicely." 

"You - fuck, what? You thought that I wanted to break up with you because of what a  _tabloid_ said? Dude, fuck that shit. You're Super Stump. Splendiferous Stump. Sexy Stump. I just wanted to ask you if we wanted to have a press conference, 'cause Brian was getting on my case."

"Oh."

"So, can we not break up? I don't want to break up with you."

"I don't want to break up with you either." 

Patrick watched the grin break out on Gerard's face, the stupid one-sided smile that made Patrick weak at the knees, and they held hands under the table and shared Gerard's cup of coffee. 


End file.
